


Look

by FagurFiskur



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Depressed Dean Winchester, Episode Tag, Established Relationship, M/M, Season/Series 14 Spoilers, Vessel Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 14:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16348064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/pseuds/FagurFiskur
Summary: Dean can’t look at Cas without seeing Jimmy Novak.





	Look

**Author's Note:**

> so i thought i was done with spn but apparently not. coda for 14x02 though obviously not canon compliant if you've seen the preview for next episode. check out my tumblr (perlukafarinn) for more codas as well as my obnoxious liveblogs

Dean won’t ever admit it out loud but there was some part of him that thought he knew what he was getting into when he said yes to Michael.

He’s used to wielding his body like a tool. To hunt. To save people. To make money in whatever way an unskilled seventeen year old with no parental supervision could. 

But being a vessel was different. Riding shotgun in his own head, feeling his limbs move without permission. Seeing his body being used to hurt people. To kill them. And that was only when Michael allowed him close enough to the surface to see.

Dean hasn’t slept through the night since Michael left. He keeps waking up in cold sweat, his muscles twitching with the memory of actions Dean had no control over.

He’s never been so helpless before. The Mark was in the ballpark but even that is nothing compared to giving his body entirely over to someone else. The closest Dean’s ever felt to this complete loss of control was in hell, when Alastair’s hand guided his knife. But that’s mostly because it made it easier, pretending that it wasn’t really him doing it.

He keeps expecting it to happen again. For Michael to somehow take charge, despite everything, and ride his body off to kill more people for a flimsy excuse of a cause. And he keeps remembering over and over how he forced Gadreel into Sam and then the feeling of helplessness is replaced by a wave of self loathing.

Which, y’know, is at least a change of pace. 

Dean doesn’t talk to anyone about it but he knows they can tell. They’re all waiting for him to snap. Worst of all is Cas, with those huge worried eyes that follow Dean around the bunker. He’s dying to help and he could probably give Dean some advice on how to cope with having an archangel ride your ass to hell and back, but Dean can’t bring himself to ask.

He can’t even look at Cas without seeing Jimmy Novak.

*

It’s another restless night. Maybe some other time, Dean would go to the shooting range or the kitchen, find some way to distract himself. But the bunker is stuffed full of people, most of whom rarely sleep through the night, and Dean doesn’t feel like talking to anyone.

He heads to the garage instead. It’s stupid, with how much he missed his home and his room and his memory foam mattress, but right now Dean’s craving the comfort of Baby’s back seat.

Only it’s not empty.

Dean briefly debates turning around and sneaking back to bed, pretending he never left it. But Cas already knows he’s here and Dean can’t avoid his best friend forever.

He climbs into the backseat and Cas wordlessly scoots over to accommodate him. For once, he’s not looking at Dean, instead staring straight ahead, shoulders ramrod straight.

Dean clears his throat. “Couldn’t sleep?”

It works, a little. Cas’ posture loosens and he glances at Dean, smiling half-heartedly. “I suppose not. What about you?”

“Nope.” 

Dean wonders if he should mention the nightmares. Maybe showing that little bit of vulnerability would be enough to break the tension between them right now. It might be worth it even though he’s sick of feeling so vulnerable all the damn time.

But it's Cas who speaks first. “You’ve been avoiding me.” 

“I’ve been avoiding everyone,” Dean says, which is true, but it’s also an excuse and one Cas sees through right away.

“You won’t even look me in the eye.” There’s accusation in Cas’ voice now, and hurt. “I don’t understand.”

Dean shrugs, tucking his arms close to his chest. “I dunno what to tell you, Cas. It’s different.”

“What is?”

“Once you’ve been a vessel.” Dean shrugs again. There’s a lump in his throat already. He’s not ready to be having this conversation. “It’s different.”

Cas is quiet for a while. Dean keeps his eyes down, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt between his fingers. It’s thin cotton, and he’s already feeling a little chilly from sitting in the garage. 

"What do you want from me, Dean?" Cas asks. "Do you want me to feel guilty about taking a vessel? Because I already do."

Dean sighs, rubbing his eyes, suddenly aware of just how bone-deep exhausted he is. "No, that's not- I don't want anything from you. I don't know why I said that. This whole thing just blows. I barely know how to use my own fucking body anymore and I can’t stop thinking about what it feels like, having someone else wear it like a goddamn suit and using it to kill people.”

“Dean...”

“And I thought I hated being myself but let me tell ya, being someone else I don’t have any control over is so much worse.” 

Dean pauses, gut clenching in shame. He doesn’t need to tell Cas that, he already knows what it’s like. Jesus fucking Christ, what is he whining for? Sam and Cas have both been through this, Sam more than once, and you don’t see them crying about it. When did he get so weak?

“I just get what it’s like now,” he finishes. His voice has gone hoarse. He doesn’t want to be here anymore but he doesn’t know how to leave without making Cas feel even worse about the whole shitty situation. 

“I’m sorry,” Cas says.

“Not your fault.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

Dean swallows. He glances back at Cas, feeling like a fucking coward when their eyes meet and he has to look back down immediately. 

Cas reaches his hand out and it’s all Dean can do not to flinch when he cups Dean’s cheek, gently turning his head to face him. He keeps his eyes downcast, closing them when Cas leans in and kisses him. 

It’s the first time they’ve kissed - hell, it’s the first time they’ve  _touched_ \- since Michael.

It’s good.

It’s good and Dean is so fucking relieved he wants to cry. The chaos in his head clears, the mess of Michael and Jimmy Novak and a body that’s still his but  _isn’t_  just disappears into the soft press of Cas’ lips against his. For one blissful moment, Dean’s mind is silent.

Then Cas is pulling away. Dean opens his eyes again, immediately caught by that familiar blue, and just like that the doubt is creeping back in. 

“It’s just me,” Cas says quietly. “This body isn’t a vessel. Not anymore.”

“But it used to be.”

Cas doesn’t answer. Doesn’t deny it. He just lowers his hand, settling it awkwardly in his lap. Dean stares at it for a long while, feeling at once too much and nothing at all.

He’s just so fucking tired. 

Finally, Dean gives. He moves, scooting in his seat so that he can lay down, legs crammed against the Impala’s door. Cas doesn’t protest. He just lifts his hand, allowing Dean to lay his head in his lap. He keeps it raised for a few moments, then slowly, uncertainly lowers it, palm warm against Dean’s scalp and his fingers combing gently through his hair. 

Dean closes his eyes again. Lets himself relax, and even though he’s cold and crammed into way too small a space it’s the most comfortable he’s been in weeks.

He sleeps through the night and he doesn’t dream.


End file.
